


Why Are You Here?

by HorrorJunkie



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Abandonment, Angry Tomas, Apologies won't cut it, Arguments, M/M, Suffering Marcus, Working together again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:52:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19747066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorrorJunkie/pseuds/HorrorJunkie
Summary: “Tomas…”Marcus grips the railing tight, his fingers digging deep into the wood of the pier. He’s shaking, unshed tears filling his eyes as he hears God for the first time in a long time. It only lasts moments but when the voice is gone and his vision clears, his heart is filled with terror. He has to find Tomas.Marcus knows he has to find Tomas and somehow save him from whatever danger he's in but finding Tomas will be easier than receiving forgiveness and helping save Tomas from the danger lurking.





	Why Are You Here?

“Tomas…”

Marcus grips the railing tight, his fingers digging deep into the wood of the pier. He’s shaking, unshed tears filling his eyes as he hears God for the first time in a long time. It only lasts moments but when the voice is gone and his vision clears, his heart is filled with terror. He has to find Tomas. It has been a long time since he has seen him or spoken to him but he knows to contact Bennett to find him. Reaching into his pocket, he takes out the new phone he had only recently bought. No one, not even Bennett had this number but he knew Bennett would pick up.  
Dialing his number, he slowly comes to a halt as it rings and rings until a voice is heard saying the number is no longer in service. He hangs up and dials again, just to be certain he hadn’t accidentally dialed a wrong number. When the same voice informs him yet again that the number is no longer in service, he begins to run. He runs and ignores the shouts of dockworkers on the pier telling him to slow down and be careful. 

Something was very wrong. Bennett would not let that number be disconnected unless something had happened. He had no way to reach Tomas or Mouse since they too had more than likely discarded their old phones and gotten new ones with new numbers by now.

Fear was beginning to coat his skin as he got into his car and drove off. He did not know where to go but it seemed God was on his side. Instincts kicked in and it seemed he knew exactly where to go. Each mile he drove, he kept trying to reassure himself that everything was alright. It was probably just another demon trying to get to Tomas but lying to himself was not helping. God would not have reached out to him unless Tomas was in mortal danger. He did not know from what or from who but the terror he felt only told him he had every reason to be scared.

What could possibly drive Marcus Keane to these levels of abject terror? 

He did not know. All he knew was that he needed to find Tomas. 

God what a fool he was. Why had he left him? He knew why. He had felt unworthy of being around someone as pure and incredibly as Tomas. 

Tomas was different. He was the perfect vessel for God while Marcus was broken, shady and unworthy.

But he loved him. Their time together had shown Marcus that maybe, just maybe, he too was a good person, not a broken mongrel that too often bristled like a dog that had been kicked too much and no longer recognized affection. Tomas had shown him what humility and love were all about. 

He had let Tomas down by leaving him.

No more. Driving faster, stopping only to eat or sleep for a few hours, he kept driving, still not sure of his destination but only certain that God was guiding him on the right path to find Tomas again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is only the first chapter of this story but I have yet to decide how many chapters there will be altogether. I just wanted to continue the story since the show was cancelled and it has been bugging me that we never got resolution.


End file.
